


Holy Water

by catpop12343



Series: #IneffableQuarantInk Challenge! [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Gen, Holy Water, Pranks and Practical Jokes, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpop12343/pseuds/catpop12343
Summary: While Crowley is out working in his garden, a duke of hell comes to threaten him and his family. His protective father instincts kick in.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: #IneffableQuarantInk Challenge! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687975
Kudos: 54





	Holy Water

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day one of @everyfreckles #IneffableQuarantInk challenge! Check them out on twitter!

Crowley could see the demons as they approached the cottage. There’s no doubt they’ve heard about his and Aziraphale’s adopted son. Word travels fast, after all. Whatever it is they’re planning on doing to him, Crowley can  _ not _ allow it to happen. He teleports inside, and grabs a flask labeled “Holy Water.”

Then, he hears a knock at the door. He rushes to answer it. Standing there is Hastur, and a few other lesser demons. “Hellllooooo, Hastur! To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Crowley,” the demon gulped. “Lord Beelzebub is asking you to take credit for the pandemic.”

“Ha! Never again, Hastur! Free as a bird, I am. Now shove off before I strangle you.” Crowley could barely keep himself from tearing them into pieces right then and there; protective instincts soaring.

“I don’t think you understand, Crowley. You-” The duke’s face contorted into one of terror. “Is that-”

“Oh, this? Just some holy water. Gardening can get  _ dreadfully  _ exhausting,” Crowley grinned.

The other demons began to back up.

“Feelin’ a bit thirsty now, actually.” With that, Crowley raised the container to his lips, and took long, slow swigs of the refreshing drink inside. Then, he sighed. 

The intruders were visibly shaking now.

“Oh, but where are my manners? Would you like a sip?”

Hastur and the others ran off screaming like the cowards they are, tripping over their own feet as they fled.

“Crowley dear, who was at the door?” Aziraphale called.

“Oh, just some dim-witted maggots from Downstairs. Showed ‘em not to mess with me,” he replied, taking another sip.

The angel jumped when he saw the label, but then he chuckled. “You filled it with whiskey, didn’t you?”

Crowley grinned. “You know me too well, angel.”


End file.
